Page 33 of A Touch of Magic at the Comfort Food Café
I know he was heading into London to see his own family, having arranged for a friend to come and stay with the dogs. It’s a woman who volunteers at the rescue he adopted them from, so they’re familiar enough with her for him to sneak away for a couple of nights. Maybe he got caught up in something with his mum and sister. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic. Maybe he simply changed his mind…
I feel much more upset than I would have expected at the idea of Aidan having let me down. I have no right to expect anything from him. Flirtatious as our relationship is, we are not actually a couple. He owes me nothing. All I’ve given him is some time and my phone number. And while they both feel like big commitments at my end, I know I’m especially weird about such things. Despite my father’s tender encouragements, I’ve never quite figured out how to ‘just be bloody normal’.
I’m trying to formulate a reply that answers their questions but also hides the slightly sick feeling I have in my throat, when Sally taps me on the arm.
‘For the love of all that’s holy,’ she mutters, her head nodding towards the entrance. ‘Who on earth isthat?’
I follow her gaze, and my mouth falls open. It’s Aidan, but it’s a version of Aidan I’ve never seen before. He pauses in the doorway, dressed in an exquisitely tailored navy-blue suit that emphasises the length of his legs, his broad shoulders, his perfectly flat stomach. A white shirt is open a couple of buttons at the top, and his hair has been trimmed, the thick dark tresses shining beneath the lights. Some men wear suits well, but Aidan stands there like he was born in one. He looks unbelievable– like a model, or a Hollywood actor about to walk the red carpet.
We’re not the only people noticing the new arrival. All around the room, women are sneaking peeks at him, some of the teenagers giggling and shoving each other, the mums smiling inappreciation. The nerdy grunge boy Libby is chatting to is openly staring at him, and even my mum looks taken aback.
Just as the music segues into ‘Moves Like Jagger’ by Maroon 5, he spots me, waves, and strides right across the dance floor. Everyone parts to let him pass, some of them gawking after him as he goes. Lucy is definitely checking out his ass, and pretend-fans her face with her hands as she does. She incorporates the action into the chorus, which is pretty neat.
Leaving a trail of distracted women behind him, he closes the distance between us. I manage to shut my mouth, but my eyes are still wide as he approaches. He’s giving me the smile, and it is even more effective than usual. My knees literally go weak, and I lean back against the bar for support. Hot damn, he is gorgeous. I think Laura would literally explode if she saw him like this.
‘Babe,’ he says, his accent more pronounced than usual. ‘You look… stunning.’
He swoops me into his arms and presses me close, his fingers twining into my hair as he holds my face a few inches away from his. I lose the power of speech, and he whispers into my ear: ‘Just go with it, Bambi…’
My arms wrap around his waist, and our bodies melt into each other. His green eyes are shining– probably in amusement at my bewildered expression– and he gives me a barely-there wink. Then he kisses me. It is long; it is lingering; it is good enough to turn me into liquid. I have not been kissed for a very long time, and I have not been kissed quite like this in my entire life. It sets all of my senses alight– the way he looks, the touch of his lips on mine, the scent of masculine cologne. My hands creep up to his shoulders, and I cling on for dear life, wrapping my fingers around his neck.
By the time he pulls away, I’m breathless for all kinds of reasons. Our eyes maintain contact even after the kiss hasended, and I gaze up at him and blink. The man has kissed all the sense out of me.
‘Wow,’ Sally says, reminding me that the rest of the world exists. ‘I feel like I should applaud…’
Aidan looks across, as though seeing her for the first time. He disentangles from me, but keeps my hand firmly held in his. I squeeze it, needing the support.
‘You must be Sally,’ he says, giving her the smile, but only a watered-down version. He keeps the big guns for me. ‘I’m Aidan Calloway. Delighted to meet you.’
He holds out his other hand for Sally to shake, and she actually blushes. Now, for me this would simply be a sign that I was awake, but Sally never blushes. She sees embarrassment as a sign of weakness and usually refuses to have any dealings with it at all. At a guess, though, Aidan’s sheer gorgeousness has undone her.
‘And I’m Sarah’s dad,’ my father says, staring at him with a touch of belligerence. He’s used to being the biggest man in the room, but Aidan has a good few inches on him and uses them well. To be fair he’s also just snogged his daughter right in front of him.
‘Sir,’ he says, in such a polite tone that not even my argumentative dad could find fault with it. ‘A pleasure. And who’s this? Another sister?’
He uses such a flirty tone with my mum that she also blushes. Good lord, the man has ruined us all. She lets out a coquettish giggle and slaps him lightly on the arm. ‘Get away with you,’ she says, clearly delighted. ‘I’m Sarah’s mum of course!’
Sally is still staring at him, uncharacteristically lost for words, shaking her head slightly as though she’s trying to wake herself up. I know exactly how she feels. I’m still reeling from that kiss. From that closeness.
When I came up with this stupid suggestion, we didn’t actually discuss what this evening would look like in terms of physical contact. Maybe naively, I didn’t even consider it. I just had this half thought-out idea that it would stop my parents and my sister from seeing me as a tragic spinster. Maybe I anticipated a bit of handholding, or an arm around the shoulder, just to make it look real.
What I hadn’t anticipated, though, was being melted into a puddle of tangled nerve-endings, with every cell in my poor confused body screaming for more. That must have looked real, surely? It most definitely felt real. And wonderful. Was it wonderful for him too, or is he just acting? What the heck is going on?
Maybe it’s this befuddlement that renders me incapable of doing what I really should be doing– whisking Aidan away from my family before anything can go wrong. He’s done his bit– boy, has he done his bit– and now we should slink away to a quiet corner for the next few hours and stay out of trouble.
Except that’s not quite how things seem to be working out. That entrance of his, plus that kiss, attracted a lot of attention. I can feel people’s eyes on us. I’ve never especially enjoyed the feeling of being watched, and I grab another glass of champagne to help calm my nerves. I pass one to Aidan without asking, and he kisses me on the cheek in thanks. God. This is going to get overwhelming very quickly if he keeps touching me like this.
Both my nieces descend upon us, as well as their dad, Ollie. Introductions are made, and I can tell that they are all smitten. Aidan is as socially adept as I am reluctant, and he shines in the spotlight– gone is the laid-back wolf man running around the village topless, and in his place is this super-stylish, supremely confident master of the universe. He told me about his former life, but I suppose I hadn’t been quite able to visualise it. Now I can, and it’s quite the spectacle.
Libby says a shy hello, and Lucy hugs him, making the most of every moment. She laughs as she pulls away, and says: ‘Blimey, Auntie Sarah, you’ve done all right for yourself, haven’t you?’
Even Ollie is clearly in the grips of some kind of man-crush, shaking his hand and grinning like a loon. ‘Is that Tom Ford?’ he asks. ‘The suit?’
‘It is,’ Aidan confirms. ‘I hope that’s okay? I was told tonight wasn’t too formal…’
His suit, of course, looks like it belongs on a mega-yacht, along with its owner. You can practically see Ollie wondering what Aidan’s idea of ‘formal’ looks like if this is casual. Within seconds, Aidan has been pumped for information by my whole family. I look on in amazement as he navigates it all, telling them the truth but in a way that somehow doesn’t really reflect the Aidan I know. Yes, he works in finance. Yes, he’s recently bought a ‘crash pad in the countryside’, and he was indeed born in the States, but somehow, none of that feels real or authentic. It’s impressing the hell out of my lot, but at the same time, I prefer my Aidan.
Even as I think the words, I feel like an idiot. There is no ‘my’ Aidan. He is putting on a good show here, giving no hint of the fact that he has abandoned his once-glamorous life for a reclusive existence in the back of beyond, surrounded by Wolfdogs. I see that side of him, and enjoy that side of him, but it doesn’t make him ‘mine’, in any way, shape or form.
